The Shunting Competition Disaster
by SynthaRoboto
Summary: Based on a really bizarre dream I had...


It had been a year since some of Sodor's engines had participated in the Great Railway show. Unfortunately, this year, it was being held in America and none of them would be able to participate. This had made many of the engines quite moody.

After several days of confusion and delay caused by engines acting up (okay, mainly James, who's enormous ego got in the way of everything), Sir Topham Hatt decided to hold a few competitions of his own on Sodor. He had, of course, made the announcement at Tidmouth Sheds. A race would be held the next day, and the day after, a shunting competition. The race would be held on the mainline (seeing that Sodor's railway apparently doesn't care much about safety), and a large yard had been reserved on the mainland for the shunting competition.

It was the next day when Diesel 10 was picking up debris from an earlier accident. As he picked up pieces of broken troublesome trucks, he saw Spencer rush past. Giving a dirty look in his direction, Diesel 10 lifted a truck whose frame had been painfully bent.

"OW OW OW!" the truck squealed.

"Oh shut up you—" Diesel 10 started, as Gordon thundered by, with no train attached. "Did he forget his express?" Diesel 10 muttered incredulously, dropping the truck.

"OUCH!" the injured truck squealed.

Then, James went barreling down the tracks at full speed, also not pulling a train.

"What in the hell is going on?!" Diesel 10 said.

A few minutes later, Edward came puffing along, looking out of breath.

"HEY! PUFFBALL!" Diesel 10 shouted. "What in the hell are you tin kettles doing, racing around with no trains?! Don't you lot have jobs to do?!"

Edward would have simply passed the warship by, but he was beginning to overheat and had to stop. Diesel 10 glared at him unrelentingly. Edward took a moment to catch his breath, then said, "We're having a race. Didn't you hear? The Fat Controller is also holding a shunting competition tomorrow."

"What?! And no one told me? Of course," Diesel 10 said bitterly. "Fat Hatt would only want you stupid steam engines competing."

"I'm sure if you ask, Sir Topham Hatt will let you participate," said Edward.

"You know what, old iron, I will," Diesel 10 said. At that, he headed for Knapford, leaving his job unfinished.

By the time Diesel 10 got to Knapford, he was very cross indeed. The Fat controller had just stepped onto the platform when the warship thundered in, glaring daggers at him. "Er…can I help you, Diesel 10?" he said.

" _Why_ was I not told that you were holding a bloody race?!" Diesel 10 demanded.

The Fat Controller began to sweat. "Er…uh…" he stammered.

"Is it because you don't want 'dirty diesels' having any fun? Or did you _actually_ expect your incredibly prejudiced, self-absorbed outdated fleet of Victorian era technology to tell me about this?" Diesel 10 said pointedly.

The Fat Controller gulped, sweating even more.

"Well?!" Diesel 10 demanded.

"You can compete in the shunting competition tomorrow if you like, Diesel 10. As long as you behave. Any form of cheating will get you instantly disqualified," The Fat Controller said sternly, regaining his composure.

Somewhat satisfied, Diesel 10 left to go finish his job.

The next day had a rather festive atmosphere. On the mainland, the shunting yard was prepared for the competition, and a large crowd of people had gathered. Gordon, Henry and James sat off to the side, watching. Gathered there were Thomas, Percy, Edward, Bill, Ben, Porter, Salty, Mavis, Philip, Toby, and Emily.

Sir Topham Hatt watched as the announcer rattled off the engines' names one by one. Diesel 10 had not yet shown up, and Topham was secretly hoping that he wouldn't. However, his hopes were dashed when a familiar dirty yellow engine came barging in.

"Ooooooouuugghhh, what is _he_ doing here?" Gordon grumbled as Diesel 10 approached.

Thomas, Percy, and Emily gasped at his presence. Diesel 10 pulled up behind Thomas and blasted his horn. "Move it!" he snapped.

"You're not even supposed to be here!" Thomas replied.

"Yes I am! Now get out of my f(HONK)ing way!" Diesel 10 said, drowning out his own F-word with his horn.

Thomas grumbled as he was switched onto another siding. "I'm sure the Fat Controller won't be happy," he muttered.

Soon enough, the competition began. There were three kinds of trucks to be shunted, each earning a different amount of points. Blue ones were one point, green were three, and the troublesome trucks were worth five points. Diesel 10 made an effort to go after the troublesome trucks as much as he possibly could. Though almost everyone expected otherwise, he kept his claw to himself. He often darted through points, sometimes nearly colliding with another engine. More than once, the engine he passed could feel heat radiating off of him, but didn't think much of it. This went on for several minutes until the last truck had been shunted into place.

Out of breath, Diesel 10 looked satisfied with the line of troublesome trucks in front of him. The announcer then spoke:

"Coming in at third place is Philip, with 20 points!"

There was applause from the crowd, but Philip let out a groan. "Oh well…"

"Coming in at second place, Thomas, with 27 points!"

More applause from the audience and another groan, this time from Thomas.

"And the winner of the competition, with 35 points is…Diesel 10!"

The audience cheered. Diesel 10 smiled. He was amazed that people were actually cheering for him. The steam engines grumbled. They certainly weren't too pleased with this result.

"Now wait a minute! There's no way he could have won!" Sir Topham Hatt said in disbelief.

Diesel 10 began to feel dizzy. Perhaps it was because he wasn't used to getting this much attention, he thought to himself. He raised his claw and did a little wave. Then, disaster struck. Smoke began billowing from underneath his rear bogie. It quickly spread to his engine compartment, which rattled loudly, causing the warship to lurch from side to side. Suddenly, a loud bang erupted. A small explosion sent debris flying from his right side, causing him to topple over onto his left side. Horrified gasps came from people and engines alike as he fell.

For a moment that seemed like forever, nothing was heard except murmurs and gasps. Then, drivers, firemen, and the like all rushed to the fallen engine, some of them with fire extinguishers which were used to extinguish any small flames.

"What…just happened?" Percy asked worriedly.

Up in the stands, several people were giving Sir Topham Hatt dirty looks while others were muttering things such as what a terrible controller he must be.

"Now, now, there's no need for such accusations—" Topham began.

"If you're taking proper care of your engines, why did this happen?" someone asked.

At that, Topham hung his head in shame. He knew deep down, that everyone who was saying bad things about him was right. He _had_ neglected his diesels, and now one of them may well pay the ultimate price.

Down in the yard, a breakdown crane had been brought, along with a flatbed. Soon enough, a barely conscious Diesel 10 was hoisted onto said flatbed. Henry was coupled up and waved off. The once cheery atmosphere had turned into one of gloom and confusion as Henry set off, soon to be followed by the others. Topham was silent the entire time as he was escorted down to his car. He knew he had a lot of explaining to do, and no matter how he thought of sugarcoating things, it likely wouldn't go over well with anyone.

Later in the evening, Sir Topham Hatt arrived at the Dieselworks. The steam engines sat in the yard outside, as they had been given orders to gather there. Diesel 10 was awake and feeling a bit better, though he was still unwell.

With his head hung low, Topham walked into the main sheds. Taking his hat off and clasping it in his hands, he spoke: "I regret to inform you this…though I'm sure some of you may already know," he glanced at the diesels who were present. "I've always ran this railway with steam engines in mind. However, this led to me overlooking the basic needs of our diesel fleet…and today it nearly resulted in losing one of them. Diesel 10, I am truly sorry," he said, turning to face the warship. "I should have listened before, and I didn't. Letting one of my engines down…is letting all of them down. There will no longer be favoritism on this railway. I will personally make sure you get the parts you need to get back on your wheels."

Diesel 10 only looked at him, distrusting.

"I don't expect forgiveness. Not after years of mistreating you and your kind. Once you are repaired, you will be free to go to any railway that will take you, if you choose." Topham hung his head once more. "I wouldn't blame you." At that, he put his hat back on and shuffled off back to his car and left.

The steam engines present were silent for the most part. Some exchanged glances, while others murmured amongst themselves. Soon enough, they departed, leaving the Dieselworks in peace. Percy was the last to leave. "Will he be okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"He'll be alright. He's gonna be in here for a while though," said Dart.

At that, Percy sadly chuffed away. He hoped that things would finally change for the better, a thought he unknowingly shared with Diesel 10.


End file.
